


Spare the Love, Spoil the Child

by Splat_Dragon



Series: Silent Savior [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Attack, Animal Death, Being Rewritten, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Violence, Inspired by Ol' Yeller, Spare the Love Spoil the Child, That mission that could go really wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22150744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splat_Dragon/pseuds/Splat_Dragon
Summary: Ginny would do anything for Jack.Even if that meant fighting a giant, angry, monster of a bear.
Series: Silent Savior [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1428232
Kudos: 14





	1. Come Hell or High Water

“Gin? Jack ain’t with you?”

Something about John’s voice set my fur to standing on end, and I dropped the first rabbit I’d caught in over a year into the dust. It must have been particularly stupid, or nearly as old as me, for me to be able to catch it. _“No?”_

I sneezed dismissively, looking up at John. His eyebrows were furrowed, scars tugged down into a scowl, face dark despite the sun baking my fur ‘til it was hot to the touch. “He’s been gone as long as you were, I haven’t seen him all day.”

And, well, I could see why he’d think that. When was the last time I’d returned with a rabbit? It’d make sense that I was bringing home something that Jack had shot with his varmint rifle. But the rabbit had a whole in its neck that was too big to come from anything but a shotgun, or my mouth, and John had trained ruining his kills out of Jack a long time ago.

But he’d also trained Jack to take someone with him when he left the steading. It used to be me, before my joints got all rickety, and then he and Abigail decided he was old enough that he was allowed to go out on his own so long as he took Rufus, and let them know where he was going.

So the fact that John didn’t know where he’d gone, well, that was concerning. And so I racked my memory, trying to see if there was some point of the game I should know, that this should bring to mind, but it had been almost four years since I’d been brought here, and even longer since I’d played the game, and so it evaded me, clinging to the tip of my tongue.

But whatever it was set anxiety to boiling in my stomach, unease clenching my heart in my chest. So I licked my lips, whining and looking around. _“John, I wish I could talk to you.”_ and how many times had I said that?

  
  


Uncle was preceded by the scent of body odor, for once the scent of alcohol faded and barely there. The smell was almost covered up with acrid fear.

“John! John!”

Watching John startle was, admittedly, pretty funny, and I would have laughed if the fear-scent on Uncle wasn’t so alarming. Usually he couldn’t be bothered to be afraid.

“It’s Jack! The kid… the kid…”

And it wasn’t funny anymore.

_“What about Jack!?”_

“Well, I just saw him out in the valley.”

_“Oh fuck this is the bear ain’t it.”_

_“Oh shit I just said ain’t I’m spending too much time with John.”_

_“Not this goddamned bear.”_

John was quickly starting to smell of alarm, of fear, and if I could smell myself, I knew, I would have smelled the same.

_“Jack why.”_

“Seems your tales of hunting got the better of him.”

_“John why.”_ I couldn’t talk, but hopefully, he got the message, as I bore holes in him with my eyes.

“He said he was going up to the pass, track down that grizzly that’s been seen up there.”

_“Jack why.”_ I paused, furrowed my eyebrows—well, eyebrow muscles. Why hadn’t Uncle stopped him? _“Uncle why.”_

John’s scent soured with alarm, with terror that stung my nose, set my teeth on edge. “Kid can’t hunt a grizzly, thing’ll eat him alive!” he shifted, dropping his hand to the gun on his hip as though he could do anything at that very moment, and I found myself doing the same, shifting on paws that ached from my brief sprint after the rabbit.

He moved to leave, and I did the same, flashing my teeth at Uncle. I tried to give him some leeway, knowing what I knew about him, but right now… well, I wouldn’t be sorry if the bear used him as a chew toy. “I know, I tried to stop him!”

_‘I doubt that!’_

“But you’re worthless as a lawyer at a lynchin’!” Despite myself, I laughed, a puff of air out of my nose as I trotted stiffly at John’s heel. I was going with him, come hell or high water, arthritis or hip dysplasia! “DAMN YOU, old man!” and I couldn’t help but to startle, flinching away at the sudden raising of his voice—he’d settled down a lot in the time I’d known him, and I couldn’t recall the last time he’d yelled—”This is my son.” He whirled around on his heel, and I whined as I tried to do the same, stiff joints screaming at the abrupt movements. John was squaring up, and I feared that he’d physically attack Uncle as he began to snarl “If anything happens to him,”

_“John, we need to go, you can fight Uncle later,”_

“You’ll wish it was you that bear attacked!” Thankfully, he settled for shoving Uncle instead of decking him, storming away. I wheezed as I hurried after him, not bothering to check on Uncle, growling under my breath once I’d caught it, licking my lips anxiously. We needed to hurry, try and catch up to Jack before he reached the bear. Though, from what I remembered of the game, it would be a race against time, and we needed to _haul_.

  
  


Bramble was tacked up nearby, grazing on the dry tufts of grass that grew near the barn. He wasn’t a horse John would normally use for hunting, bomb-proof Domino or elderly Challenger for that, but he didn’t have the time to tack one of them up, and so John swung onto the bay’s back, the gelding grunting in surprise but obeying easily, leaping into a gallop as John’s spurs dug into his sides. With a spryness I hadn’t felt in a long time, I bolted into motion, darting after them like I used to so often once-upon-a-time.

It spoke to John’s distraction that he didn’t think to call for Rufus, that he forgot that I wasn’t as young as I used to be, that he just kept riding, only yelling at me to “Find Jack, girl!”

And by god, was I going to.


	2. A Friend In Need is a Friend Indeed

I didn’t need a scent sample.

I knew Jack’s scent like the back of my paw. Knew Uncle’s and John’s and Abigail’s, too. So it was second nature to pick it up amongst cow-scent and horse-scent, nose to the air as I barreled out of the homestead and towards Tall Trees, towards that horrible bear’s den.

My bones ached, and my joints were stiff, but they loosened as I ran, cracking and crunching in my ears. I’d be hurting, later, but what was pain to Jack’s life?

“Where is he, Ginny?”

_“Passed Tall Trees!”_ I barked, but of course he couldn’t understand me.

I left the road, darted through the sparse trees and passed the train tracks, through more trees and then back onto the road inside of Tall Trees, John’s voice a mosquito’s buzz in the back of my head, all of my focus on following Jack’s scent.

Without a heartbeat of hesitation, I bolted off the road into the trees. I’d normally never have left the road in Tall Trees—in the last few years, the population of cougars and bears had exploded, likely with the help of this very bear. Even with John at my back, it was damn foolish to go off the path, and he only had a revolver, didn’t have his rifle on him, or any other gun that would be of any real use.

But Jack was more important, so I charged ahead, my lungs burning, joints screaming.

  
  


I skidded down an icy rock, my hips clicking, but it didn’t hurt. John’s voice faded, some, as he had to go around, and so I began to bark as I ran so he could follow me, though it, of course, ran the risk of attracting bears or cougars or wolves.

And then I lost the scent.

I stopped so abruptly that my hindquarters went up and over my shoulders, and then I was tumbling until I slammed into a tree, and that _did_ hurt, and my back would be screaming later, I knew. My paws scrambled through the snow, and I darted back to where the scent had been lost, the snow scattered there where I’d fallen. I put my nose to the ground and began to circle, eyes darting this way and that in hopes of finding tracks, but either they’d been lost when I threw up the snow or my eyes were too dull to find them. Horse hooves clattered behind me as I sniffed, and John told me “You can find him, Ginny.” before standing up in his saddle and yelling “Jack! Can you hear me Jack?!”

I found the scent again and took off as fast as I could, slipping as my claws failed to find traction on the icy ground. It wasn’t much further before the trees grew sparser and sparser, and then the ground was inclining beneath my paws, the ground turning to rock. _“Jack!”_ I pitched my voice up into a howl, _“We’re here, Jack!”_

“Jack! You up here?!”

_“He is, John! Hurry!”_

The path up the mountain was winding, and I struggled to go up it at a run, skidding and almost falling as my claws slipped in the snow, and John had to slow Bramble to a trot to keep from running me over, the path too thin and precarious to allow him to pass around me.

  
  


The smell of blood smacked me, suddenly, in the face, and my howl died into a snarling bark, musky bear-scent making my fur rise along my spine. _“Come on, John! Come on!”_

Finally, we reached the plateau, and John reigned Bramble to a stop, while I drew myself up, looking around and, there! the bear growled, the sound rattling me down to my bones. Even from a distance, it was _massive_ , face scarred and nasty. John’s hand went down to his gun, and I heard breathing behind us, pained and stuttering,

“Pa, help me! I’m hurt!”

_“I’m going to kill you.”_

I arched my back, peeled my lips back and began to snarl at the bear, stepping towards it on stiff legs, while John backed towards Jack without turning his back to the beast.

_“How dare you!”_

The bear drew itself up, roared so loud that, if it weren’t for Jack, I would have fled, and began to barrel towards us.


	3. A Dog is a Man's Best Friend

I really should have run.

It was easily three, four, five times my height, and probably the same in weight. Its eyes were wild, one glazed over, a nasty, gnarled scar trailing through it, through its nose, down through its lip.

I hoped that it _hurt_.

It roared as it charged, and I bellowed back just as fierce, John’s gun firing once, twice, and then a funny clicking noise, and he began to curse a blue streak behind me, and it said a lot that Jack wasn’t gasping _“Father!”_ as the man tried to fix the gun.

The bear was getting closer, and John wouldn’t be able to fix the gun in time. I could see the whites of its eyes and, so, I lurched forward, flattening my ears back to protect them from lashing claws and snapping teeth, attempting to startle it, remembering the one time I’d spooked off a grizzly by lunging forward and barking, but this bear wasn’t falling forward, kept running and, so, without a second thought, I _leaped_ , setting my teeth into one of those gnarled ears, going limp and letting my dead weight pull the beast’s head along.

It was getting far too close to John and Jack for my comfort.

  
  


It yelled its rage, and I let go of its ear, hitting the ground hard, knocking the breath out of me. I rolled and clambered to my paws, lowering my head to protect my throat and arching my back, snarling as loud as I could. _“Eyes on me, asshole!”_ The bear reared up and roared angrily as I spat out the mouthful of furry flesh, dropping down and charging, impossibly fast.

I jumped out of the way, and I wasn’t old anymore. I was as young as I’d been the day I’d been brought here, only a few years old and fit to take on the world. Nothing could have stopped me, could have kept me from fighting this bear. It twisted, and its claws brushed passed my nose. I lunged, setting my teeth into those massive paws of its, jaw creaking as I strained to fit my mouth around it.

  
  


John was cursing loudly as it reared up and twisted, my paws leaving the ground, and slammed me into the cliff face. I squealed, and let go, stars bursting from my eyes as I slid to the ground. It lunged towards me, yellowed teeth opening wide as it prepared to take my face off, only to jolt back as a bullet shattered the stone next to its head. It wasn’t stunned for long, but it was long enough for me to get my paws beneath me and leap up, setting my teeth into the side of its neck, trying for its jugular, only to get a mouthful of loose fur and flesh.

The bear twisted, and reared up, and reached for me. Claws tore across my back, and I let go before it could really get a grip on me, scrabbling away, but a harsh blow to my shoulder sent a searing pain racing through me, blood splattering through the air, knocking me off my feet and sending me tumbling across the rock.

The beast was on me before I could move, setting its teeth into my hip hard enough that I heard more than felt the bone shatter and beginning to thrash me around, and there was an awful shrieking sound that I wanted to yell at to _shut up!_ but oh, wait, that was me.

A gun was firing, but the bear was unbothered, more focused on me than the bullets that flew wide, John struggling to hit the beast that was moving so much, scared of striking me by mistake. It finally let go when a bullet struck it on the shoulder, dropping me unceremoniously to the ground and turning to roar at John and Jack, and I laid, still, for a long moment as I panted for breath, whining. Oh, _oh_ , that hurt. My aching _everything_.

...and, of course, the bear was charging at them. Because of course it was.

I yelped as I staggered to my paws, stumbling, and barreled forward, blood spraying as I barked to draw its attention. It worked, thankfully, the beast of a bear whirling about to face me, charging to meet me midway. It snapped at me, but I managed to twist out of the way, rearing up on my hind legs and sinking my teeth into the fur of its head, teeth scraping painfully against bone. The bear made a horrible screaming sound, and reared up until my paws left the ground, thrashing around, but I didn’t let go, only clung on until the flesh I clung onto tore free, bearing muscle and bone and dumping me to the ground.

The bear staggered, rumbling as it brought a paw up to rub at its face, and I took advantage of its distraction to leap up and set my teeth into its forearm on its blind side, nearly releasing my grip as a bullet flew passed my head. Blood poured down my throat, its fur threatening to choke me as it swung me around, and then I realized my mistake as it sank its teeth in, pain exploding in my shoulder. I clenched my jaw, tighter and tighter, until my teeth scraped against bone, and its jaw clenched, tighter and tighter, until finally I had to let go, vision graying with the pain.

A bullet struck the bear in the shoulder, and it grunted, letting go of me. I staggered away, adrenaline pumping through my veins, and I darted in again to snap at its heel, lunging in and biting, trying to snap the tendon of its ankle, and then the bear was whirling, a paw slamming into my stomach, pain was burning white hot, a gun fired, oddly tinny-


End file.
